


Last Minute Shopping

by SakuraKatana



Category: Batman - All Media Types, The Batman (Cartoon)
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraKatana/pseuds/SakuraKatana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Joker has a Christmas surprise for Gotham, but he needs Harley Quinn to go get materials. Will Harley be able to complete her mission? And what is the Joker building anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Minute Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot I posted to ff.net in 2008, and I'm still pretty happy with it. Fun Christmas adventure, yay! Well, not all fun, but mostly fun. Enjoy.

In the not-so-well-stocked, semi-dark, and extremely messy kitchen of the Joker's current lair, Harley Quinn emptied a bottle of chocolate sauce over her mug of mini-marshmallows. Giggling with anticipation, she set the microwave for two minutes and watched with wide eyes as the mug turned around and around. Soon enough the chocolaty marshmallow mixture had begun to swell, bubble, and spill out onto the bottom of the microwave. When the timer went off Harley quickly spooned the gooey sugary mess back into her cup and raised it to her lips.

"HARLEY!"

The dame in question jumped. The mug flew out of her hands and she caught it just before it could smash on the cement floor. Harley scurried down the hall. She adjusted her jester's hat and opened a door which led to a stairway, which in turn led to the Joker's workshop...or whatever he was using the room for at the time.

"Harley?" the Joker called again. this time not sounding angry at all.

"Yes, Mistah J?" Harley replied timidly, starting to descend the long, dark staircase.

"Don't you go down those stairs now or I'll have to gut you like a fish. Ha ha!"

"Y-yes, sir," said Harley. She stood stock still on the top step.

"Good girl. I need you to go to the store for me and get about thirty two and a half boxes of Christmas lights."

"I don't think they sell half-boxes, puddin'. Can I just get thirty three?"

"WHAT?! Well, fine. Just go!" Hysterical laughter ensued.

Harley quickly turned to leave, when she heard her name called again. "What is it, sweetie?" she said.

"Take off that ridiculous costume and make up before you go. You look like a loony! Nobody in their right mind would sell you electric lights!"

"You want me to buy 'em?" asked Harley incredulously.

"Of course I want you to buy them! Are you insane? Well, that would explain why you've hung around here for so long..." There was a pause. Harley waited to see if the Joker would say anything else. He started giggling. After about a minute the Joker spoke again. "You still here, Harley? Okay, we-eh-ell, money's on the TV, and I want purple and green lights only. Now SCRAM!"

Harley Quinn scrambled out of the staircase. She took a few deep breaths and slouched to the bathroom. It felt strange to just wash the white face paint and black lipstick off. After airing her blond hair from under her jester's cap, Harley had to root around for a while before she found her old clothes. The pink jacket, blue jeans, and pink-and-white shirt were a bit dusty, but luckily no moths had taken to munching on them. A quick change, a stop by the TV to pick up a fat envelope full of cash, and Harley was ready to go.

She sighed and mumbled, "But it's Christmas Eve..."

Oh well, Harley thought as she started towards the nearest hardware store. It wasn't like any other holidays were that great with Mistah J. anyways. For her birthday the Joker had surprised her with a giant chocolate cake with frosting that stood out four inches from the pastry. It exploded in her face after she blew out the trick candles for the twelfth time. By then she didn't have enough air in her lungs to care that much. Halloween had been fun until Batman showed up, though. They had gone Trick 'r' Treating at Arkham Asylum. It was hilarious...but nobody got any candy. On Thanksgiving Harley had been in the asylum.

Now it was Christmas Eve. She didn't know whether Mistah J. was going to give her any presents. She didn't know whether he would like what she had stolen for him. She didn't know what he was building in is workshop, and usually she knew what the plans - or at least the machines- were before they were acted out or used. They would probably spend Christmas fighting Batman.

But the worst thing about this mess was that Harley had no idea whether or not the Joker knew that hardly anybody sold purple Christmas lights!

However, when she walked into Ray's Home & Garden Supplies Harley knew she had struck gold. Right in the front of the store was a huge plywood sign announcing a two-for-one sale on Christmas lights! Harley grabbed the last twenty boxes of plain green lights, paid for them fair and square, attracted a lot of odd looks from her fellow customers, and skipped giddily from the building.

She decided to drop the bulbs off at the warehouse before setting out on the probably hopeless quest for purple Christmas lights. She should have guessed that things could only go smoothly for so long. After turning into a dark alley (always the smartest choice in Gotham), arms piled high with boxes, Harley bumped strait into none other than Oswald Cobblepot.

"Heh? What? Harley?" sputtered the Penguin as Harley sped to recollect the boxes that had been knocked all over the ground.

"Yeah, yeah, it's me," replied the busy blond.

"Don't tell me those lights are for Joker! What does he want 'em for?"

Harley stood, her stack of boxes teetering. "That's the thing! See, he won't tell me! Mistah J.'s been cooped up in his workshop for the past few days and he won't even let me peek at what he's building!"

"Hrm..." mumbled the Penguin. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I guess it's time to get out the old gas mask. Sheesh, doesn't even take Christmas off. Well, see you, Harley. Tell Joker Merry Christmas from el Penguino...and it goes to you too!"

"Gee, thanks! Have a good one!" called Harley as she left the alley as quickly as she could without slipping on the icy sidewalk. Since it was getting dark so quickly she barely registered that the Penguin had replaced his usual top hat with a Santa hat. She knew Batman would probably be out soon. If anyone walkin' the strait and narrow was going to recognize her tonight, it would be him. The last thing Harley wanted to do was spend Christmas in Arkham.

When she reached the warehouse/lair/home sweet home, Harley dumped the lights on the top step of the dark stairway to the workshop and turned to start out again. She found the doorway blocked by the Joker.

"Hi puddin'!" she greeted, somewhat nervously.

"Did you get the lights?" asked the Joker urgently.

"Well, I only got the green ones 'cause I was gonna drop 'em off and then get the purple ones."

"Argh! Harley! I need those lights!"

"Why can't ya tell me why ya need 'em Mistah J?" asked Harley, starting to pout.

"You really want to know why?" said the Joker. He leaned in to invade her personal bubble.

"Yes!"

"What's the magic word?"

"Please, please, please!" squealed Harley, bouncing on the tips of her toes.

"BECAUSE, that's why!" exclaimed the Joker with a cackle. "You'll find out when I'm finished, just like the rest of Gotham! Now get me those lights!" He started to push her toward the front door.

"Can't ya just give me a teensy hint?" begged Harley.

The Joker punched her into the wall. Harley tried to ignore the cracking noise as she hit. He advanced on her. When he spoke again his voice had lowered dangerously. "Don't push your luck."

Harley nodded frantically and sprinted out the door. Her face stung like crazy. She knew she'd better find a store selling thirteen boxes of purple Christmas lights fast, or she'd be spending the night on the street. The door opened behind Harley and she instinctively cringed away, only to be hit with a ring of keys, including those to the various undercover cars and vans. It was easy to get the message.

An hour and a half later Harley parked a silver Honda in front of the movie theater next to Simply Purple. If any store carried those stupid, but very important, lights, it would be this one. When the old lady who smelled strongly of lavender told Harley that they were out it was very difficult not to strangle her.

It was even harder not to start crying when she left the store. So hard that it couldn't be done. Harley sat on the cold sidewalk between the movie theater and Simple Purple (on Christmas Eve, in an insufficient jacket, with a bruise quickly forming on her face) with tears streaming down her face.

Unbeknownst to Harley, Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson had just exited the movie theater. Not in the their alter egos of Batgirl and Robin, the two friends had decided to catch a movie as both Batman (aka Bruce Wayne) and Commissioner Gordon were extremely busy that night. Even so, Batman had given his sidekicks the night off.

"I'm telling you, I could totally pull that move," argued Dick.

"Yeah, right. I don't even think Batman could pull that off," countered Babara. "Okay, hold the phone."

"What is it?"

"Look at the blond in the pink jacket."

"The one crying on the sidewalk? I'd say she's been abused, by the looks of that bruise. You want to go talk to her or something?"

"Doesn't she look familiar to you?" hinted Barbara.

Dick squinted. "No...whoa! That's Harley Quinn! Except, you know, de-clown-ified."

"Yep, looking like her old talk show host self. I think we should see what's up," said Barbara. Dick shrugged, and the two headed over.

After exchanging uncertain looks with Barbara, Dick cleared his throat and said, "Um, excuse me?"

Harley, who was almost out of tears now, looked up. "What?"

"We were just wondering-" another glance at the commissioner's daughter "are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Where'd you get that bruise?" said Barbara, always the sensitive and subtle one.

Harley let out a sob. "Nowhere. I mean- it's nothing. Just my boyfriend. Ya know, no big deal."

"I think that is a big deal," Dick said.

"Well, I don't! So why don't ya mind your own business?" shouted Harley. She rose to her feet. "Hey, do I know you?"

"Um...no. Not at all," replied Barbara.

"Don't you kids have somethin' better to do?"

"Not really. I mean, we could go hang out behind Milton's, but we don't do crack, so that's out," quipped Barbara. Dick elbowed her in the ribs.

"Milton's! Milton's! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!" Harley exclaimed. She grabbed the two teenagers in an impromptu group hug. "You're the best!"

As the silver Honda screeched away, Dick said, "If anything bad happens tonight in the Joker department, it's totally your fault and you totally have to turn on the Bat-signal."

Babara groaned. "Fine..."

Milton's had purple Christmas lights on a shelf visible from the front window. Harley was so happy she almost ran over a stop sign. She skipped into the store and counted the boxes of purple lights. There were fourteen! Even one extra! Harley clapped her hands and gave a little squeal of joy. She quickly snatched thirteen boxes and hurried to the counter to pay for them.

"Did the math already, hon. I got a hundred thirty four bucks right here," Harley told the pudgy man at the cash register. "Just bag 'em up for me."

"No can do, doll-face," said the cashier, whose name tag claimed his name was Greg. "We're saving them for the Holiday Parade. Somebody's picking them up tomorrow morning."

"WHAT!?" screeched Harley, her voice going up an octave.

"Sorry, but-"

"Don't sorry me, buster! You'd better gimme those lights, or-"

"Or what? I'll have to deal with your one hundred and five pounds of fury? Give me a break, doll-face," said Greg with a bored expression.

Harley grinned and took a gun out of her back pocket. It had been left in the passenger seat of the Honda, and had seemed lonely. Greg backed away from Harley. "Aw, come on, you gotta be-"

"Kidding ya?" Harley finished. She fired the gun and a Bang! flag popped out. "Yeah, I am. But ya know what? If ya don't hand over those lights then you're gonna be spendin' your merry Christmas bein' fed to my boyfriend's hyenas! So gimme the lights!"

"He-he-here you go," stammered Greg. He shoved the boxes at her and cowered.

"Thanks, sweetie!" said Harley. She blew him a kiss and happily trotted out to the car. She drove ten over the speed limit all the way back to the warehouse, and dropped the purple Christmas lights by the dark stairway. "Yoo hoo! Puddin'! I got 'em!"

"Yes! Ha ha ha! Finally!" exclaimed the Joker as he bounded up the stairs. "Now be a good girl and go put your costume on. Hee hee hee, this is going to be great!"

Harley stared as he picked up the thirteen boxes of purple lights and walked not down to the workshop, but out the front door. She sighed. "He's the best."

It felt great to put on the Harley Quinn costume again, and even better to reapply the face paint and black lipstick. She gave herself a huge smile in the mirror, then realized that all she could do was wait until Mistah J. came back. She decided to feed the hyenas.

That turned out to be a good idea, as they almost bit Harley when she came with bloody steaks for them. Too bad she hadn't grabbed Greg while she could.

"Oh, Harley!"

"Yes, Mistah J?"

"Come on out! Gotham's Christmas present is finally done!"

"Yay!" Harley ran to find the Joker standing outside the front door. When she appeared he tied a blindfold around her eyes. "Hey!"

"Uh-uh, no peaking!" the Joker insisted. He pulled her inside yet another undercover vehicle, this time an ice cream truck (as Harley could tell by the annoying music blasting from it) and burned rubber. Harley desperately hoped this would not attract any law enforcement, especially the type that dressed as giant flying rodents.

Harley had long ago gotten used to the Joker's uniquely chaotic style of driving and concentrated on his off pitch whistling of "Holly Jolly Christmas" instead of her unsettled empty stomach. At long last the Joker parked the ice cream truck and jumped out.

Unfortunately the blindfold was still secure as Harley was led up about a million zillion stairs and up to roof of what had to be a skyscraper or something close to it. At long last the Joker whipped away the blindfold.

"Tah-dah!" he announced.

"Um..." Harley mumbled in confusion. There was nothing on the roof.

"Not here, you nincompoop! Over there!" The Joker pointed at the roof of the next building.

"Oh!" gasped Harley.

For on the roof, lit only with purple and green Christmas lights, stood the biggest, tackiest, mechanical lighted reindeer Harley had ever seen in her life. It stood out a heck of a lot more than the Bat-signal as the reindeer bobbed it's head up an down. Down on the street citizens were gathering to stare in awe and bafflement, and to read the sign around the reindeer's neck that said Smile, Gotham! Merry Christmas!

"Well?" said the Joker. "It the world's largest mechanical reindeer! I checked the record book!"

"Puddin' that's...that's..." for a moment Harley was lost for words. "That's the best Christmas surprise ever!"

The Joker started laughing and Harley happily joined in. He grabbed her in a bear hug. "Merry Christmas, Harl!"

She giggled, and replied, "Merry Christmas Mistah J!"


End file.
